Of Elvish Hairballs and Fluffcovered Peanuts
by Lulu the Purple Elephant
Summary: Romance, adventure, humour... What more could a girl want? PG 13 for some suggested slash pairings (not folowed through!!!!) and some adult themes...


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in here except Seargent Peanut, so nyah. If you want to think that I own them, then I suggest you look in my wallet. If I owned the Lord Of the Rings, would I only have 45 cents and a library card? I don't think sooo.  
  
A/N: Ok, so I have a crazy mind. Who cares. There are some suggestions of a slash pairing, but nothing big. There are (bum bum buuuuuuuummmmmmm) adult themes, but other than that, you should all be fine, kids. *pats kids on the head*  
  
Of Elvish hairballs and Fluffy military peanuts.  
  
'Arwen my darling, I. I have something to tell you.' 'Yes my darling, what is it? But be quick, for I also have news.' 'My sweet, I. I love you. Will you love me?', came the tender words from Aragorn's sweet lips. 'My dear, I know with all my heart that you will love me for eternity, but, you see, I have to tell you.' She whispered softly in his ear, 'I'm gay, my dear king'. And he fainted.  
  
Gradually, his eyes started to flicker open and there before him he saw his love. The on who had betrayed him, choosing to crush his heart with two small words, like the blow of a Dwarven battleaxe. If only he could turn back the clock. He would convince her that he was the only one for her.  
  
Elsewhere, in a corner somewhere in Moria, sat Gollem. Facing the wall, and moving heavily up and down, the evil creature was rocking back and forth, and whispering over and over again, 'Yes. My precioussss, my precioussssss, yes, yesss, yessss, YESSSSSS!!!!!!' *Sorry for the incovenience, but Lulu's brain has malfunctioned, due to the extreme grossness that she has just dragged up from it's depths. You have been placed in a queue, and will be dealt with soon. Thank you for calling MindMaintenance, your Number 1 carer- for of sick, twisted minds*  
  
Back a the House of Elrond, Arwen had changed into some overalls, and had ceased shaving, (Everywhere), so that, as Elvish hair grows extremely quickly, she was soon the envy of every Dwarf that had ever lived. She wandered around, all day and night, spouting various pieces of feminine literature at inopportune moments, such as during the meeting of the Fellowship of the Ring, (albeit that this was only to decide on the motto for their T-shirts), (by the way, they ended up as 'Down with the bra, up with freedom', which only really applied to one member of the team, a very disgruntled Gimli).  
  
'Sam my darling. I have something to tell you.', said Frodo, master of all things short and hairy, (you all have sick minds!). 'Yes sir?', said Sam. 'Sam my darling.I can't see you any more,' said the older hobbit. 'But why sir? We had such a good time together', reminisced Sam, servant of vertically-challenged, egotistical, 'I want to save the World', hairy footed bondage-lovers. 'You see Sam, I've. I've been seeing someone else. Here, I'd like you to meet him,' Frodo said, and with that he pulled a small fluff-covered peanut wearing full military uniform out of his pocket. 'He's in the army. He's going to be a colonel soon, Sam. And he provides for me what all of the males under 6 feet from Middle Earth couldn't. A tank.' And with that, Frodo boarded his tank, along with Seargent Peanut, the peanut, and they drove off, together, into the sunset.  
  
Well, back again at the House of Elrond, Arwen had all the Elves subconsciosly humming 'What If God Was One of Us', and 'I am Woman'. She was producing tofu turkeys at a rate of knots for Thanksgiving, and had just commenced work on a lima bean Christmas pudding, because she 'just couldn't bear to hear the screams of those poor little raisins'. The floor was a jumble of dark elf hair and granola, and her ginger cat Pippin, (formaerlly a hobbit but transformed into a cat when Gandalf had been drinking), was coughing up huge clumps of stolen iron tablets mixed in with Arwen's hair. Elrond didn't know what to do with his daughter. So, he brought in an expert.  
  
'Well, Saruman, what seems to be the problem with my darling girl', (who was lying in a straight jacket, bound with leather straps, had a dirty pair of computer socks stuffed in her mouth, and had just been poked and prodded for the last half hour while her father had been looking at dirty posters in Saruman's clinic). 'Elrond, it seems your daughter has a bad case of feminismitis,' said that sadistic mad-doctor-type-person called Saruman. 'Aah,' nodded Elrond, having no clue what had just been said, as he was looking at the 'How to Check For Breast Cancer' poster on the wall. 'Yes, she must be kept in isolation for 3 months, with no food or water and a large tape of Tom Jones songs.' 'How soon?', asked Elrond, now looking at a chart of the 'Male Hobbits Reproductive System'. 'Well, I have an opening in about a week. Would you like to never smile at a crocodile, unless it bites your hand and runs off?', commented Saruman, being a bit pissed off at not being listened to in a field that he actually knew something about. 'Sure, sure. I'll pay you on Tuesday,' said Elrond, who had moved onto a pamphlet of 'You Are Growing Up: So What Now?'  
  
  
  
Chapter 2 coming up, what would YOU like to see? Tell me, and I'll make it happen. For 'I am woman'. 


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